at the end of the day there is little appetite for making music still we feel we must take a chance and ask who would make shoes that are so uncomfortable
Tag Archives: day
imagine the day fine and the gremlin
in the intestine who shatters the desk
before the final exam to stay warm
through an unremarkable winter may
smile before the surprise final exam
before the day when the day if
but today
let a song slip through your fingers
find that last breath
barreling toward some release but
the sand in your
shorts the ice cream begins to melt
for a second
you forget that this is the way
the world moves and
that’s not
quite it either there was a kind
kind of light maybe
it falls and smalls and
smaller the world
spins people go
to parks interviews
you hear a voice
but the words garbled
maybe with a
little work but
that’s how it all
starts again freed
from one hole
you fall in another
as I write with one foot
stuck in dark mud the other
unresponsive for reasons
I can’t discover lights
flicker throughout the day I’m
more full of fewer thoughts with
air enough for me to ascend
the brilliant sharp mountain
I have kept my pockets empty for
I have kept my back straight against through
years of small work and I
see the check on its way
before I’ve ordered it’s my fault
I should have gotten here as soon as
the neighbors finished dancing
on our ceiling and the sky
changed to business casual blue so with
my knuckles sore I crack another nut
but what if one thought survives
somehow the pressure of space
as the small stones crawl from the sea
wall after the grey is gone
and we work into the overhyped
night sponsored by what you would rather
remember a castle visited
through a dream that always asks too much
such energy though these eyes still blurry
but the day begins early & takes the blame
for every flattened patch of fur on the highway
for the last two weeks and what do I know I
wasn’t there but you feel the flies surround
you & maybe we got off on the wrong
foot and maybe that’s all there is now
in the still heart of the great machine a
few sparks with dances to come and yes we
can agree that I use the word too often
but it’s still the right one for the job and
out in the forest it sniffs a mushroom
and moves on since the field guide’s at home and
doesn’t want to take any chances
all day I thought I was some other day the ink seeped out starting with what in your chest before you can fly 1,000 years
the scent of wood fires in fog I start the day
crickets in the breeze
I decide to wait
another day